


World Song

by SpaceAsthmatic



Category: TOLKIEN J. R. R. - Works & Related Fandoms, The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Bonding, Comfort, Cute, Developing Friendships, Early fellowship, Fellowship of the Ring, Fluff, Friend Fluff, Friendship, Singing, Song - Freeform, Sort Of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-10
Updated: 2018-10-10
Packaged: 2019-07-28 22:52:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,038
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16251425
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SpaceAsthmatic/pseuds/SpaceAsthmatic
Summary: "The Elf hummed, and the world hummed back" Sam wanders away from camp to mourn his home and leaving the plants he has looked after for so long. He is surprised to find that Legolas knows exactly how he feels when no one else ever has. Legolas - Sam freindship fic.





	World Song

The small gardener wandered carefully away from the fire where the rest of the fellowship had gathered for the night to sleep. It was Pippins turn to watch, but he had watched Sam shuffle off into the darkness without a question. Perhaps he had sensed his friend's melancholy mood. 

 

It would not be until much later that he learned that the young hobbit had kept quiet because the Elf of the company had already made his way in the same direction a half hour ago. 

 

Sam gently touched the bark of the tree’s as he passed them, very slowly winding his way towards the nearby river. He had promised Gandalf that he would not let Frodo out of his sight, and he intended to keep his word. Or die trying, if the need be. But that did nothing the help settle his feelings of unease. 

 

He was not a hobbit made for wandering. He was not Bilbo, nor Frodo. His heart did not yearn to see the world and experience all it had to offer. His heart yearned for comfortable beds, the ale of the Green Dragon and his plants that he tended to carefully. 

 

Sam sighed in despair, he really did miss his plants. He missed his father and his friends, of course, Rosie most of all. But he had spent years coddling and looking after his plants like they were a live child. There were many bushes and flowers he had planted many long years ago in Bilbo’s garden for him, he had spent years waking them from their winter slumber and helping them bloom into the summer sun. 

 

He had watered, weeded, defended and fixed all of his beloved plants. This would be the first spring that he would not be there to greet them into the new year. He would not be there to ensure any pests that ate their leaves world be dealt with quickly. He would not be able to keep weeds from stealing the nutrient from them deep below the surface of the soil.

 

It was silly of course, but he felt such love for such fragile things. They brought him comfort and he felt a sort of companionship with them. He felt such connections with them that sometimes he wondered if they had a soul within them just as he did. 

 

His father had scoffed at him the first time he had wondered that question aloud, and he did not speak to anyone else of it. But he still thought about it time to time when he tended to them, talked to them, protected them. 

 

He was also aware that they flourished best under his care alone, no matter how skilled the gardener took the task for him when he was too ill to do it himself. Secretly, he told himself that it is because they liked him best. 

 

Sam sighed again, resting himself gently in the great tangled roots of a spruce tree. Being back amongst nature calmed his heart somewhat, but not as much as he wished it to. He missed his home. 

 

“What troubles you so that you wander away from our companions at such a late hour, at such a perilous time Samwise?”

 

The Hobbit in question gave a great start at the unexpected voice. It had drifted gently down to him from directly above his head, he looked up to find Legolas stretched along one of the branches many feet above the ground. 

 

He laid on his back with his hands folded behind his head, staring at the stars through a hole in the branches above him. His light blond hair hung down from the branch like branches on a willow tree, the moonlight turning it a bright grey.

 

Sam was slightly alarmed with the thinness of the branch the elf had chosen and was mystified with how he managed to balance to perfectly atop it. “I just wished to spend some time with myself.  _ You _ are also wandering about alone late at night.” 

 

The hobbit's eyes widened slightly, he had never meant for his words to sound so flippant. Had he done it to Merry or Pippin it would have been fine, but not to an elf. Why had he said it to an elf?

 

He sighed in relief when he heard the very quiet chuckle from above him. Legolas lazily drew one of his throwing knives from his belt. Carelessly he tossed it, and without looking knew it had pierced three pine cones before sticking into the center of a tree knot. “I have come from a very dangerous place, my little friend. It takes far more than a few orcs here or there for me to be concerned for myself.” 

 

Sam gulped air and nodded softly. Even after spending time staying in Rivendell the awe of elves had yet to wear off the gardener. While Legolas appeared to be friendly enough, Sam had never had much a conversation with him. Instead, he stuck close to Frodo's side, while Legolas seemed to weave in and out around them serving as a silent scout. 

 

When the Elf did talk it was almost exclusively to Aragorn or Gandalf, but always too softly for Sam to hear. 

 

Pippen had asked for a song from Legolas’ home one night while they all sat around the fire. Legolas had only given them a small sad smile and shook his head softly. “I think this not the time, our songs have been melancholy as of late.” 

 

Aragorn had given the elf a sympathetic look, and Gandalf patted him encouragingly on the shoulder. Moments after, Aragon had begun a song he had not yet sung to them yet to fill the silence. 

 

He knew little of the Elf's home, only what he had been told during Bilbo's stories. 

 

“Why have you sought solace so far from your friends?” The elf asked again, dropping his right arm down from where it had been behind his head, and turning enough on the branch to peer down at the hobbit underneath him. 

 

“I am among friends.” Sam was surprised at his own words. He had not thought about what to say before he had said them, they had just slipped out. His ears turned slightly pink at the honesty with which he had spoken, trying to think of what to say next. 

 

Sharp blue eyes scrutinized him carefully, making Sam feel as if the elf could peer at the very soul that resided within him. The look stalled the hobbit's words in his throat, and he waited for the verdict on his essence. 

 

“You miss your plants.” It was a statement, not a question. The elf gave a small nod of agreement, “I understand.”   

Perhaps there was something in the elf's voice, or perhaps it was the look on his face but Sam believed him. He believed that for once, someone finally understood what he felt and he hadn't even needed to explain himself first. 

 

“You miss their song.” 

 

As if to prove his point the elf hummed a few bars of a song. Sam was certain that he had never heard the song before but yet it felt achingly familiar. It stirred something in him, and his spirits crawled a little higher. 

 

Sam scrunched his face in confusion, “Their song?”  

 

Legolas clucked his tongue softly, the hum dying off. “I forgot how deaf mortal ears can be.” 

 

Sam was not sure if he had just been insulted or not, all he knew was that his question had not been answered. He asked again, “What song?” 

 

“The song of the souls within your plants. Every living thing on Arda has a song, but it is the song of the tree’s our hearts like best. But we have wandered so far from our favorite singers.”

 

The hobbits face scrunched in greater than before, “But I do not hear any song. I have never heard a song.” 

 

Legolas laughed, it was such a wondrous sound. One of the best Sam had ever heard, “That is because your mortal ears are too deaf for such a thing.”  

 

Swiftly and with startling grace the elf rolled off the branch and fell from the sky. At first, Sam had panicked, thinking that perhaps the elf actually had fallen from the tree. But Legolas landed next to the hobbit so solidly and firmly that their only option was that he had done it on purpose.

 

He sank to sit on the ground nearly as swiftly as he had fallen from the tree, coming to sit eye level with the hobbit. “But your heart is not deaf to such things.” 

 

Sam had heard Frodo say once, that one should not go to Elves for counsel for they would say both yes and no. He had not understood the meaning at the time, but he was fairly certain he was experiencing it. 

 

“Give me your hand.” 

 

Legolas held his own out, palm up. Open and inviting. Hesitantly Sam placed his own hand over the others.

 

Legolas took it and with gentle hands pressed Sam’s palm flush to the bark, covering the hobbit's hand completely with his own. “Now close your eyes and listen.” 

 

Obediently the hobbit closed his eyes and listened. What he was listening for, he wasn’t sure. But he listened anyway.

 

He listened to the slight wind in the trees, the few crickets by the river. He listened to the squirrel moving along the branches of the tree in front of him. But he did not hear any songs. 

 

The Hobbit opened his eyes again to look around. 

 

“Close your eyes.” The elf commanded without opening his own. 

 

“But I do not hear anything.” 

 

Legolas’ voice remained calm and even, though Sam wondered if he heard a hint of humor there too. “Then you are not listening.” 

 

Sam sighed but did as the elf instructed and let his eyes drift closed again. He felt foolish. Sitting here among tree branches with his hand pressed to the bark waiting for it to sing. He hoped this was one some sort of joke on the elf's part. 

 

He was about to give up again when Legolas began to hum again, very slow and very quiet. 

 

At first, the hobbit still did not hear anything. He still heard the crickets, the squirrel and the wind. But not a song.

 

But then, he heard it. 

 

It wasn't so much as notes to a melody, like one would hear at an inn or a tavern. It was not a lullaby one would sing to their children at night. Nor was it even a long and slow solo piece from an instrument. 

 

It was all that somehow, and more. It was the snow melting and bringing water down from the heights. It was plants growing, blooming and seeding one after another. It was deer’s grazing in the field, it was a bird singing in the tree’s. It was ants marching their way through the first in a line, it was a butterfly testing its wings for the first time. It was him and Legolas sitting peacefully among the roots of a tree, his hand pressed against the bark and the elf's pressed against his. 

 

He had never heard such a magical thing in his life. Nor had he ever heard of such wonders in any stories and myths he had devoured as a small child. He had never heard such a thing, but he had felt it. 

 

Countless times he had felt it. 

 

The Elf hummed, and the world hummed back. 

 

Eventually, Sam did not even have a guess at how long they had sat there together, Legolas removed his hand from Sam’s. It took a few moments for the song to fade from his ears, and the hobbit kept his eyes closed until it did. Not wanting to miss a moment of it. 

 

When he finally opened his eyes he was surprised to see that the sun was rising. “We should return to the others.” 

 

With that Legolas rose to his feet and set off back towards the camp, merrily whistling the tune Sam had been feeling all his life. Feeling more rested than any sleep had ever given him, Sam stumbled after him.   

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading!!! Please remember to review, its pretty much the best part of my day tbh


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